


Prince's Potions

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 08:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus watches with growing anger as an aggressive suitor tries to bed a clueless!Harry, figuring he needs to save the idiot from himself and sees Harry experience a proper Christmas for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prince's Potions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilyseyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyseyes/gifts).



> Written for the 2012 Secret Snarry Swap. I ended up writing for my dearest Lilyseyes.   
> Thanks to Sevfan for beta reading and to the lovely Snape Potter mods, who rock at throwing fests.

~

Prince’s Potions

~

“Christmas is coming.” 

Severus ignored Lucius. He knew Christmas was coming, he’d just been trying to avoid thinking about it. “I’m aware.” 

“Hm.” Clearly knowing when to change the topic, Lucius looked around the shop. “You know, this location you chose really was clever.” 

Severus rolled his eyes. Discreetly. After all, it wouldn’t do to appear too ungrateful as Lucius _had_ put up a quarter of the money he’d needed to purchase his new potion shop. _Thank you, Albus,_ he once again thought as he considered what his future could have been. 

The day after the Battle of Hogwarts, Severus had awakened surprised to be alive and shocked to discover that Potter of all people had been diligently spreading the news of his undercover work against Voldemort. That, in combination with a letter, written by Albus Dumbledore, that had suddenly appeared on Kingsley’s desk that morning, completely exonerating Severus for his murder, had been gratifying to say the least. 

Even more useful, Albus had also left a large vault to Severus. _Well, large to me. Certainly nothing in comparison to the Malfoy or Black vaults, but...enough._

Thus, having expected to be summarily hauled off to Azkaban, Severus had instead been politely invited to the Ministry, where he’d been awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class, alongside Potter, Granger, Weasley and Longbottom.

Reaching up, Severus fingered the medal, which he always wore around his neck. It was extraordinary, really, that such a tiny thing meant so much to him. _And now here I am, seven months later, with my own shop. Mother would have been so proud. Which is why I had to name this place what I did._

Prince’s Potions was located just on the outskirts of London, and it was conveniently placed only a few doors away from St Mungo’s, a choice spot. It had taken some manoeuvring to get the owner, a Squib named Clark, to agree to sell, although it had been worth the time it’d taken Severus to develop the Hair-Regrowth Tonic the man had demanded. _Still, he overcharged me for the property by at least five percent._ He had no concerns, however, since the man was paying him for the hair potion. _I’ll recoup my losses eventually._

“Do you know I can see the front entrance to St Mungo’s from here?” Lucius said, staring out the window. “Perhaps we should put up some brightly coloured Christmas lights or something to attract attention.” 

_We_? Severus sighed. Perhaps accepting money from Lucius had been a mistake. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “ _I_ need no cheap stunts. And of course it’s visible from the hospital. Why do you think I chose this spot?” Levitating the last of the Bruise Paste and Pepper-Up he’d made the previous evening onto the shelves, he examined the display. 

Satisfied, he placed a Stasis Charm on them before walking over to where Lucius was standing. “Those fools at the hospital always tell people to go to Diagon to get their potions once they’re released, but the moment they walk out they’ll see my shop. I am, as they say...conveniently located.” 

Lucius smirked. “Your...reputation should also stand you in good stead.” 

“Indeed.” Turning away, Severus began setting up more shelves. His reputation with the public could still use some work despite the best efforts of Potter and his gang. “Have you heard anything?” 

Lucius huffed, turning away from the window. “Me? I am entirely persona non grata these days I’m afraid. Still, I’m working on something--”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Is it legal?” 

Lucius coughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course it is. Mostly. Anyway, I’ve heard that Shacklebolt is planning to expedite the rest of the Death Eater trials before the holidays. Once they’re over and the public isn’t reading about us anymore, things should settle down.” 

_Let’s hope._ “We shall see.” 

“So,” Lucius said. “Not to bring up a sore topic, but do you have plans for Christmas?” 

Severus huffed. “I never even celebrated Christmas at Hogwarts. Why should I start now?” 

Lucius shrugged. “Narcissa is hosting a Christmas Eve Ball this year. She believes that things need to return to normal.” He made a face. “Well, as normal as things can be with Mudbloods and blood traitors running things.” 

Severus stiffened. “You may wish to temper your language, Lucius. After all, you only stayed out of prison because of Potter, and he’s no pure-blood.”

Lucius waved a hand. “You know what I mean.” 

“No, actually.” Turning to face him, Severus crossed his arms. “You’re aware of my blood status. And of that of many of us who were recruited to the Dark-- to Voldemort’s cause.” _While he’d been nominally sane with interesting ideas._ “Do you think of us that way as well?” 

“Of course not!” Lucius frowned. “Severus, you’ve heard me use those terms before and they never bothered you.” 

“Oh,” Severus said, tone cool. “They always bothered me. But it was hardly something I was about to bring up in Voldemort’s presence, who, may I remind you, was also a half-blood?” 

“I meant no offence.” Lucius huffed. “Surely you know that.” 

“No, I don’t know that.” Severus raised an eyebrow. “And since it appears I must say it, then take this as a warning. Do not use those terms in my presence again.” 

“Fine.” Lucius’ lips twisted. “You’ve certainly changed.” 

Turning away, Severus didn’t reply. He’d known Lucius for decades, knew his strengths and weaknesses. He was nothing if not adaptable. Severus knew he wouldn’t slip up again. Unless he meant to. _And while he may not actually believe my blood to be as worthy as his, he’ll never say that to my face, which is all I care about._

Lucius coughed. “Be that as it may...I do hope you’ll attend the Ball, Severus. And perhaps bring a guest.”

“We’ll see,” Severus said. _Hardly_.

Lucius smiled. “Excellent. Anyway, there was another reason I visited you here today.” 

Severus wasn’t surprised. “Indeed.” 

“Yes. You...recall the outstanding...loan?” 

Severus turned to face him. _Is he calling it in already_? “I’m familiar with it, yes,” he said, tone dry.

Lucius was inspecting his nails. “I was hoping we could adjust the...terms.” 

Eyebrow raised, Severus inclined his head. “In what way?” 

Lucius cleared his throat. “That...Hair-Replenishing Potion you came up with for Clark. Can you produce more?”

“My Hair-Regrowth Tonic you mean,” Severus corrected. “Of course. Why?”

“I believe I shall...require some soon.” 

Severus’ gaze darted to Lucius’ head. “Everything looks fine to me.” 

Lucius patted his hair protectively. “Yes, but it seems Draco is taking after his grandfather, and as you may know the Greengrass contract is at a rather delicate stage.” He sighed. “I was hoping we could work out an...arrangement.”

Severus smirked. He’d only met Abraxas once or twice, but he did remember one thing about him. He’d been quite bald. “Well,” he purred, “I’m sure we can manage to reach some sort of compromise.” And suddenly, his day got a lot brighter.

~

Harry stepped out of St Mungo’s, tilting his face up to the sky. It was grey, with a hint of snow, and he smiled as a snowflake drifted down onto his cheek. 

He was tired. Healers’ hours were long, the work intense and rewarding. By the end of a shift, though, he was usually quite tense. And yet, as he stood in the doorway, with people pushing past him, he felt himself relaxing. Normally, he would have Apparated straight home, but something made him want to walk for a bit and savour the winter evening. _Plus, it’s not as if anyone’s waiting for me there._

Pushing away that depressing thought, he cleaned off his damp glasses before beginning to stroll down the street, hands in his pockets. As he walked, Harry pondered his day. It had been trying, filled with testy people demanding his attention. But there had been a few bright spots, too. The sweet but terrified young couple who’d brought their baby in with his first fever, and who had been profoundly grateful when he’d provided them with free samples of Fever-Reducing Potion whilst reassuring them she was fine, had been worth helping. 

_Which reminds me. I need to see if that new potion shop across the street has anything good--_ Pausing, he made a beeline for the shop, which looked warm and inviting compared to the grey evening. 

Opening the door, he blinked. _Merlin! It smells like Snape in here._ Then he shook his head. _I really need to get over my obsession with him. I haven’t even seen him since the Order of Merlin ceremony._

Shaking off that thought, he moved inside, scanning the shelves. Unlike most magical shops, which seemed disorganised and set up only to confuse customers, this shop was spacious, well lit, and actually had their products organised in alphabetical order.

“Fever-reducer,” he murmured, running his finger along a shelf. 

“Third from the left, second shelf,” came a familiar voice from behind him. 

Harry froze. Was his mind conjuring things? “Snape?” Slowly, he turned.

“Potter.”

Harry gaped at Snape. “You work here?”

Snape smirked. “I own this shop, actually. I take it you were not aware?” Snape looked good. Clad in his habitual black, his collar and cuffs were trimmed in white, somehow making him appear younger, his skin less sallow. Months of healthy eating had evidently put some weight on him as well, by the look of his arms and body, which filled out his robes nicely. Harry had always found Snape fascinating, but in that moment his obsession slipped over into attraction.

“No.” Harry coughed, dragging his gaze from those mesmerising shoulders. “But I’m glad.”

“Are you indeed?” Incredibly, Snape’s voice, which had always been one of his best features, had somehow _improved_ after Nagini. “And why is that?”

Harry smiled. “I was hoping this place would have reliable potions, and now that I know _you_ run it, I know that’ll be the case.” 

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Was that an actual compliment, Potter?” 

“You know what, I think it was, sir.” Harry chuckled. “I am capable of giving them, you know.” 

“Oh, I imagined you were,” Snape said. “Just never to me.” 

Harry laughed. “Just goes to show that we’re living in a new world.” 

“That is indeed true.” 

Snape moved forward, his robes swirling around him, and Harry’s breath caught. The scent of sandalwood and patchouli enveloped him and he inhaled. “What...what are you doing?” he whispered as Snape leaned in.

Reaching behind him, Snape grasped a phial on the shelf. “I’m obtaining the Fever-Reducing Potion that you indicated you were searching for.” Holding it out to Harry, he murmured, “That _was_ why you came in here, yes?” 

“Yes! Right.” Taking the phial, Harry cleared his throat. _Get a hold of yourself, Harry._ “Thanks. It’s for a patient.”

“I’d assumed since you look quite...healthy.” Snape looked him up and down.

Harry blinked. Had it been his imagination or could Snape actually have been checking him out? Could Snape fancy him, too? 

“Will there be anything else?” Snape asked, abruptly turning away and walking over to the counter. 

_Bloody hell, even his arse is fit,_ Harry thought, staring.

“Potter?” Snape sounded amused. 

Wincing, Harry hurried after him, face flaming. _I hope he didn’t notice me ogling him_. “Er, sorry?”

“Do you require anything...else?” 

Harry coughed. “Not at the moment, no.” 

“That will be five Galleons.” Snape smirked at Harry’s clear surprise at the price. “Expensive, I realise, but it has an automatic renewing preservation charm on it which will last until it’s completely used.” 

Harry blinked. “Wow. That’s brilliant, actually. That means we can administer it in the clinic and have it last. I wish more potion makers did that.” Handing over the money, he continued, “I should start sending patients over here.”

“That would be...appreciated, Potter.” 

Tucking the phial into his robes, Harry hesitated. “Er, so, I’ll be seeing you.” 

Snape nodded. “Highly likely since I am now across the street.” 

Harry smiled. “Right, well, it was good to se you, sir. You look...well. Have a goodnight.” 

“Thank you and goodnight to you, Potter.” Snape crossed his arms. “And, as you’re no longer my student, I think you can forgo the formal appellations.” 

“Right. Goodnight, then. Snape.” And, once outside, Harry started for home. Glancing back at the shop, he was surprised to see Snape watching him and, feeling inexplicably cheered by that sight, he grinned. _See you tomorrow, Snape._

~

When Potter showed up the following day, Severus wasn’t surprised. Oddly, he’d felt Potter’s approach to his shop, his magic seeming to almost...caress Severus’ wards. _Fanciful thinking._ “Good day, Potter,” he said as the door opened. 

“Hello.” Potter’s cheeks were pink, his eyes bright. 

_Just the cold and the wind,_ Severus told himself. “Was the Fever-Reducing Potion adequate for your needs?” he asked, setting aside his accounting.

“It worked great.” Potter smiled. “I’m sure you’ve no idea how much of that we go through in a day, but it’s a lot, especially this time of year.” He sighed. “Everyone’s so sick.” 

Severus pursed his lips. “Do you require more? Because if you do, we may be able to work out some sort of bulk discount programme.” 

“You know, that would be great.” Potter leaned against the counter. “The Fever-Reducing Potion they make in the hospital is all needed by the patients who are admitted there and they really can’t spare any for the outpatients.” He coughed. “And, to be honest, your version is better anyway.” 

Severus inclined his head. “I may have...adapted the formula a bit.” 

“Well, whatever you did, it works.” He looked around the shop. “What else have you adapted?” 

Within thirty minutes, Severus had worked out a deal with Potter to provide all of the potions for his clinic. 

“I can’t promise that the other clinics will follow suit,” Potter said. 

Severus nodded. “Of course not, I understand.” 

Potter smiled. “I bet they will, though. Especially once I spread the word.” 

Severus certainly hoped he was right. Particularly since he hadn’t yet started making a profit in his new business. _This should help with my bills this month._ Startled, he suddenly realised that he owed Potter. Again. “That’s...generous of you, Potter,” he said stiffly. “It appears that I am in your debt.” 

“Oh no.” Potter shook his head. “It’s the least I could do, and this doesn’t compare to all _you_ did to protect me when I was a student. I still owe you way more than I can ever repay.”

Severus relaxed slightly. “Indeed.” 

“Although that doesn’t mean I didn’t have a bit of an ulterior motive,” Potter continued, a small smile playing about his lips. 

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? And what may that be?” 

“I was hoping you’d go to dinner with me.” Potter appeared hopeful. “Maybe Saturday? It’s my night off this week and, um, I’d love to have a chance to chat with you about, um, stuff.” 

Taken aback, Severus stared at Potter. _A date? Dear Merlin. No. He can’t possibly mean that the way it sounds. Why would Harry Potter fancy me? I must be misreading his intentions--_ “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he blurted, mind spinning. “I’ve a lot of paperwork and a meeting--”

“Oh.” Potter looked like a kicked Crup and, feeling like an arse, Severus watched him turn away. “Well, I’ll just be going, then.”

Mentally kicking himself for being an idiot, Severus said, “Wait! I--” 

Potter turned around. “Yes?” 

“This Saturday is not feasible for me, but perhaps we could schedule something for another evening?” Severus held his breath as he waited for Potter’s response. _What are you doing? He’ll say no, of course--_

“Another...Oh!” Potter brightened. “Great! I mean, that’d be fine! It’s just... Well, my hours are a bit odd, but I’m sure I can manage some evening. It’s hard to plan things not for a Saturday since I can never be sure of my schedule, you know? But maybe we could just go for curry one night?” Evidently realising he was babbling, he stopped. “Or something.”

“That would be...acceptable,” Severus said, tone gruff. Perhaps he hadn’t made a fool of himself? “My weekday evenings are generally free.”

A wide grin broke over Potter’s face. “Brilliant. It’s a date.” And, as Severus tried to wrap his mind about the idea that Potter may have meant what Severus had thought he’d meant, Potter started for the door. “See you tomorrow, then!” 

Unable to help himself, Severus smiled after him. “Apparently so.” 

~

Wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, Harry finished sealing the wound on the patient in front of him before stepping back. He’d been working for about eighteen hours straight and was exhausted. _I can’t believe we were so busy tonight,_ he thought, scanning the clinic. 

All the Healers had been called in to deal with injuries from a riot that had broken out at a Quidditch game and it didn’t look like the casualties would ever stop arriving. 

“You need to go home, Harry.” 

Sighing, Harry turned to face Penelope Clearwater. “How can I? People are still showing up needing to be treated.” 

“The rest of us can handle it. You need to rest. Go home!” 

“I’m fine.”

Penelope huffed. “You took about double the time that you usually do to close that last boy’s wound. If you go on much longer you’re going to start making mistakes.”

Harry blinked. “I guess I could kip on the sofa in the lounge for thirty minutes--” 

“That’s not good enough.” Clasping his shoulders, Penelope spun him around, shoving him towards the door. “Home,” she snapped. “Or I tell Angus McTague that you’re secretly in love with him but you’re just too shy to act on it.” 

Harry’s eyes widened and he turned to look at her. “You wouldn’t!” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to test that theory?” 

“No.” Shaking his head, Harry started for the door. “You are a hard woman.” 

“That’s because I have to be to deal with hard-headed Healers,” she called after him. 

Chuckling, Harry slipped out into the hallway and down the stairs, looking out for McTague. The man was nice enough but just a bit too...insistent. He kept asking Harry what his plans were for Christmas, not accepting his vague answers. Rumour had it that when he’d heard Harry was starting as a Healer there, he’d demanded to have his schedule changed to be on the same rotation. No matter how Harry tried to avoid him, McTague seemed to have a way of finding him. 

_Not tonight, though._ Ducking into an alcove, Harry pulled out his Cloak, slipping it over his head. Then, being careful not to smack into anyone, he walked into the lobby. As usual, McTague was there, loitering by the fireplace. Slipping past him, Harry walked outside, and once he was clear of the door, removed the Cloak. 

It was freezing and, exhaling, Harry started towards home. As usual, he passed Snape’s shop, pausing to stare into the dark windows. Pressing his hand against the glass, he closed his eyes. _Maybe I should have sent a Patronus to tell him where I was, although I doubt he missed me._

Harry sighed, wishing he knew what Snape was thinking. Did he think Harry a nuisance for stopping by so often? _He acted a bit surprised when I asked him to dinner. Maybe I was too bold_?

McTague was right about one thing. Christmas _was_ approaching, and Harry had no interest in spending it alone. And something told him Snape would be alone, too. _Maybe we could be alone together._

Shaking his head at himself, Harry chuckled. “I really must be tired,” he muttered. Deciding he was too tired to Apparate, he moved towards the nearest pub to use their Floo. Behind him, his handprint left its outline on the cold glass.

~

_It shouldn’t bother me,_ Severus thought as he unlocked his shop early in the morning. _So what if he didn’t stop by last night? He’s a young man, he has a life. He probably went out with his friends and forgot about me. I must have misinterpreted his dinner invitation. I’m sure he’s not...actually interested._ Now if only his heart believed that.

As he began to take down the wards, however, he paused. Something felt different. Frowning, he scanned to front of his shop, peering closely at a smudge on the glass. 

Tugging his gloves off, Severus touched the spot, gasping. “Potter?” 

It certainly _felt_ like Potter’s signature magic. Closing his fist as if attempting to grasp it, Severus stood there for a moment. Apparently Potter _had_ stopped by the evening before. Appalled at how pleased that thought made him, Severus snorted at himself and moved away, opening his door. 

As he went about his day, however, he found himself watching the entrance of St Mungo’s. He wasn’t prepared to admit that aloud, but it was true. Healers, in their lime green robes, were quite easy to spot, and every time he saw someone in those robes approaching, his heart sped up. _Fool,_ he berated himself whenever it turned out to _not_ be Potter. _He’s busy. And he’s not interested in you. How could he be_? 

And yet-- Severus sighed, remembering the way Potter’s eyes had tracked his movements around the shop that first day. _Perhaps there could be something between us,_ he thought as he watched people hurrying by in the light snow. _Stranger things have happened._

Pushing back his sleeves in preparation to work, he glimpsed the edge of his Dark Mark and he sighed. _Except I’m a Death Eater, so to think he’d actually be interested in me is ridiculous._ Shaking his head, Severus determinedly turned his back to the window to start restocking, putting Potter from his mind. 

When the perimeter wards chimed, he glanced at the clock before calmly turning to greet Potter, whom he’d felt approaching. And froze. 

As he’d known, Potter had arrived, but he had a companion with him. A man Severus had never seen before. He was wearing green Healer’s robes as well, but it was the proprietary way he was hovering about Potter that immediately made Severus’ hackles rise.

“Hullo, er, Severus,” Potter said, looking almost relieved upon seeing Severus there. “This is Healer McTague. I was telling him about the shop and he insisted on coming to see it.”

“Well of course I came,” McTague said. “I’ll try just about anything Harry suggests.”

“Indeed.” Severus didn’t miss Potter’s use of his first name, nor did he crack a smile in response to McTague’s broad grin and wink. “Well, do feel free to look around.” 

Potter coughed. “Angus, why don’t you look around on your own while I talk to Severus?” 

“Oh.” McTague pouted, clasping Potter’s arm and making Severus want to smack him. “But I’d hoped to spend some time with _you_ , Harry,” he murmured, tone soft. “We hardly ever get to chat at work and I thought--”

“That’s because it’s work.” Potter didn’t budge. “Sorry, but I really need to talk to Severus.”

“I’ll wait--”

“Alone.” Reclaiming his arm, Potter approached the counter and, after a disappointed sigh, McTague turned away to start browsing. 

“You wished to speak with me?” Snape said once McTague was out of earshot.

“Not really.” Potter’s eyes widened as he realised what he’d said. “I mean yes, I do, but not about anything specifically.” He closed his eyes. “I mean--”

“You mean you wish to avoid McTague’s companionship and you’re using me to do it.” Severus smirked as bright colour flared over Potter’s cheeks.

Potter shook his head. “I never could fool you, could I?” 

“I don’t even know why you try,” Severus said. He looked over to where McTague was still browsing. “Why not just tell him you’ve no interest in spending time with him?” 

“He won’t take no for an answer.” Potter ran a hand through his hopeless hair. “I was even considering putting in a shift change request, but I think he’d just follow me.” He smiled. “Plus, it would mean I wouldn’t be able to spend as much time here, and I really do like talking to you.” 

“Even if you are only pretending today because of McTague?” Severus asked. 

“Actually, I’m not pretending about that at all.” Potter looked serious and Severus found himself caught in that intense gaze. “And sorry about yesterday, by the way. There was a stampede at a Quidditch match and I didn’t get out until after midnight.” 

_And yet you touched my window._ Severus nodded. “It’s fine, Potter, you don’t owe me an explanation.” 

“Of course I do, since I told you I would be coming by.” Potter licked his lips, the movement of his tongue capturing Severus’ attention. “I don’t like to break my promises.” 

“It’s fine.” 

Resting his hand on Severus’ arm, Potter shook his head. “No, Severus, I--”

The wards chimed and, cursing the interruption, Severus moved away from the counter and from Potter’s warm, distracting touch. “Mrs Adams. More Bruise Paste?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus watched Potter. He didn’t immediately go to McTague, but instead waited, and, to Severus’ surprise, seemed to be watching him back. 

“--some Pepper-Up and Doxycide, too, please. Those stupid things have shown up again--” Mrs Adams was unusually loquacious and it took Severus several minutes to get rid of her, although she did buy more than double her usual amount. Unfortunately, that had been enough time for McTague to reattach himself to Potter, and for them to have moved. 

Having handed Mrs Adams her purchases and seen her out, Severus looked around for Potter, eyes narrowing as he listened carefully for the sound of hushed voices. Eventually he pinpointed McTague’s whinging. “--go! This shop’s boring, Harry! Come on, there’s a new sushi place that just opened up three streets over. And then we can talk about our plans for Christmas.”

“I don’t like sushi.” Potter had somehow been manoeuvred into a corner, wedged there by McTague, who was looming over him. “And I already told you, I’ve my own plans for the holidays. Now excuse me. I need to speak with Severus.” 

“You already spoke with him.” McTague was beginning to get on Severus’ nerves. “You can’t possibly have more to talk to that ugly git about.” 

“Is everything all right here?” Severus asked, smirking as McTague jumped. 

“Yes,” Potter said, ducking under McTague’s arm. “Angus was just leaving, actually.” 

“Harry--”

“See you later, Angus.” 

Potter’s tone was firm and, after shooting a glare at Severus, McTague huffed. “Fine. But mark my words, you’ll regret this when you’re alone at Christmas. See if I care!” 

“Pushy sort, isn’t he?” Severus murmured as the door closed firmly behind McTague. 

“You’ve no idea,” Potter sighed. “Anyway, I’m sorry about that, Snape--”

“You called me Severus before.” Severus almost bit his tongue in half as _that_ slipped out. 

“I know.” Potter’s eyes glinted behind his glasses as he leaned against the wall. “Sorry about that. It just...came out. I hope it didn’t upset you.” 

“It was...surprising.” Severus coughed, turning away. “But acceptable.” 

“Oh. Brilliant, then.” Potter’s voice softened. “May I...continue to do so?” 

“If you insist.” Severus’ hands were trembling, and, hoping that Potter hadn’t noticed, he slipped them into his pockets, his fingers brushing against the two invitations to Narcissa’s Christmas Eve Ball that had arrived earlier that day. He blinked as an idea occurred to him. “So what _are_ your plans for Christmas, Potter?” 

“None for Christmas Eve, but I usually go to the Burrow on Christmas Day, so I suppose I’ll do that again.” Potter smiled. “Why?” 

Severus took a deep breath, sure he was about to make the worst error of his life. “Because you’d mentioned dinner and while that seems difficult to coordinate given our schedules, I’ve an invitation to the Malfoys’ Christmas Eve Ball tomorrow night and I thought that perhaps--” 

“Yes,” Potter interrupted.

Severus blinked. “What?” 

Pushing off the wall, Potter moved closer. “Yes, I’ll go with you.” He blushed. “If that’s what you were going to ask.” 

“It was indeed.” Pulling one of the invitations out of his pocket, Severus extended it to Potter. “You’re sure?”

“Very sure, yes. Although there’s one caveat.” 

Severus tensed. “Which is?”

Potter smiled. “You’ll come with me to the Burrow on Christmas Day.” 

“I may not be welcome there--”

“You’ll be welcome there,” Potter assured him. “They’ll just be thrilled that I’ve invited someone.” 

Severus nodded slowly. “Very well. I agree.” 

Clearly pleased, Potter took the parchment, his fingers brushing against Severus’, sending a spark up his arm. And from the look on Potter’s face he’d felt it, too. “Formal robes, I take it?”

“Naturally.” 

“And just so we’re clear, you _are_ asking me out on a date, right?” 

Severus’ mouth went dry and he was unable to answer as Potter leaned in. Their faces were almost touching when the wards chimed and the door opened. 

“Severus, have you made a decision about our Ball yet? Oh!” Lucius looked back and forth between them, his expression speculative. “Am I...interrupting something?” 

“No,” said Severus automatically. 

“Yes,” said Potter, at the same time. 

Shocked, Severus glanced down at Potter, catching the flare of hurt in his eyes. “I mean yes,” he corrected, continuing to stare into Potter’s face. “Go away, Lucius.” 

“Ah, yes, of course. Although I would love to let Narcissa know, since the event is looming and you know how she gets with these things--”

“Fine. We’ll be there,” Severus said, irritated. 

“Excellent.” Lucius coughed. “Er, and we had a meeting, Severus?” 

Severus sighed. _Dammit._ “Yes, I remember.” 

“I really have to go anyway,” Potter said, moving away. “I signed up for an extra shift tonight to make up for being off tomorrow night. Plus, someone else is out sick.” 

_Sadly, it’s not McTague._ “One thing before you go,” Severus said, clasping Potter’s arm firmly and leading him behind the counter towards the stock room. “Excuse us, Lucius. We’ll be just a moment.” 

Once they were alone, Severus released Potter’s arm. “I should apologise--” 

Potter shook his head. “No need.” And, to Severus’ delight, he leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And we probably shouldn’t have almost snogged in the front room anyway,” he whispered. “It’s not professional.” 

“Who said anything about snogging?” Severus asked, even as his hands settled on Potter’s waist, supporting him. 

Potter grinned. “That’s was what I was about to do before we were interrupted.” His grin turned mischievous. “Were you planning something even more risqué?”

Severus opened his mouth only to be interrupted by Lucius. “Severus! We have customers!” 

Potter frowned. “We?” 

Severus rolled his eyes. “I have to go. I’ll explain later. When shall I collect you for the Ball tomorrow night? Seven?” 

Potter nodded, his expression endearingly shy. “Sure. I live at twelve Grimmauld Place.” 

Severus smirked. “I’m familiar with it.” And, swooping down, he covered Potter’s mouth with his own for a brief yet intensely luscious kiss. When he raised his head, Potter looked gratifyingly dazed. “You said something about an extra shift?” he said as Potter clung. 

“Yes. Right.” Shaking his head as if to clear it, Potter started for the door. “See you tomorrow.”

Severus couldn’t wait. “Indeed you shall.” 

~

Every close female friend Harry had was in his bedroom and he _still_ had no idea what he was going to wear to the Ball. He wouldn’t have called any of them for advice, only when he’d got home the prior evening, he’d excitedly Flooed Hermione to share his news, and she’d immediately appointed herself his sartorial consultant. _And, since what Hermione knows, Ginny knows, and thus Luna and Parvati know--_ “Er, you _do_ know that Severus is coming to get me in twenty minutes, right?” he said, glancing in consternation at the clock.

Luna, the only one who wasn’t poking through his entire wardrobe, nodded. “They know, Harry. I’m sure they’re about to agree at any moment.” 

Ginny, Hermione, and Parvati, who were all arguing, ignored them. 

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Harry asked Luna. 

Luna nodded. Clad in blinding orange with an apple green shawl and yellow shoes, she would certainly stand out. “Daddy picked it out. He’s going, too, and we’re going to match.” 

Unable to wrap his mind around what Xenophilius’ outfit could entail, Harry decided it was time to take charge. “All right, you lot!” he said, standing. “I’ve fifteen minutes to get dressed, maybe less, since this is Severus Snape we’re talking about and he has a tendency to be quite punctual.” 

Hermione turned towards him. “You should wear blue. A nice neutral colour.” 

“The hell with that,” Ginny snapped. “He’s a Gryffindor and it’s Christmas. Red’s the only possible colour choice--” 

“Green to match his eyes,” Parvati chimed in. “And it’s a Christmas colour, too, as well as a nice compromise--”

“I’m wearing black to match Severus,” Harry said, tone firm. “Now please hand me my robes and let me dress.” 

Hermione huffed. “Maybe a pattern in the fabric--” 

“Lions in gold thread,” Ginny said. 

“Snakes in green thread?” Parvati suggested. 

“Silver on the collar and cuffs,” Harry said, raising his wand. A moment later the robes were trimmed with silver. “There, that looks like an outfit fit to wear out with Severus Snape.”

“Too plain,” Ginny complained.

“Severus Snape,” Harry repeated, shooing them all out. “Now go so I can get dressed.” 

In fourteen minutes, having all but shoved his friends into the Floo to get rid of them, Harry stood waiting in the front hallway, watching the clock. As precisely seven, the bell rang and Harry opened the door. “Hello.” 

As he’d expected, Severus was in black, but his collar and cuffs had metallic green trim. 

“Wow, you look great,” Harry said. 

“As do you.” Extending his arm, Severus smiled. “Shall we?” 

Mouth dry, Harry stepped forward, sliding his hand into the crook of Severus’ arm. “Please.” 

“Hold on.” 

They landed at the gates of Malfoy Manor, which was ablaze with lights. Holding Harry close, Severus touched the gates and they seemed to dissolve, re-forming behind them after they’d moved through. 

A house-elf in livery greeted them at the door, gesturing towards the ballroom, which was decorated to look like a winter forest at night. Even the ceiling was twinkling stars, and faux ice crystals hung from silver trees while mistletoe floated about. 

The place was crowded, packed with people in formal gowns and fanciful robes. In the distance Harry spotted Kingsley and his wife, several Ministry officials, and even Fleur and Bill. 

Ginny, clad in red, was there, too, dancing with Dean, as was Hermione, who was being spun energetically about by Blaise Zabini. Both women waved, Ginny giving him a thumbs up.

“Champagne?” an elf squeaked by Harry’s elbow. 

Nodding, he grabbed two glasses, handing one to Severus. “This isn’t how I thought this would be,” he said, looking around.

“Oh?” Severus sipped. “And what did you expect?” 

“Fewer people.” Harry coughed. “More...awkwardness.” 

Severus chuckled. “Narcissa loves a party and she’s very good at giving them. She always makes sure to invite all the right people to ensure they are a success.” 

“Do you attend many parties here?” Harry asked. A vision of Severus, escorting a string of other men to Malfoy balls appeared in his head, and he frowned. 

“Are you mad? I abhor these things.” Severus sniffed. “But it seemed churlish not to attend. After all, Lucius is a business partner of sorts.” 

“Oh. Is that why he was talking like that at your shop yesterday?” 

Severus nodded. “Fortunately, his investment in my shop is small and growing smaller by the month.” Sliding his hand under Harry’s elbow, Severus steered him into a corner. “Do you wish to dance?” 

“I’m pants at it, actually,” Harry admitted. “Although I’ll give it a shot if you like.” 

“That’s not necessary.” Severus set his glass on an empty tray that floated by. “I don’t mind dancing, but it’s not my favourite activity.” 

“What is?” Harry asked, leaning in close.

Severus smiled. “The answer may surprise you. I enjoy quiet evenings in.” He gestured around them. “This sort of thing is too...frenetic for me.” 

Harry nodded. “I know what you mean. Maybe we should have just gone to dinner,” he said. “Just the two of us.” 

“Indeed.” Severus was staring at him. “Would you have preferred that?” 

Shrugging, Harry smiled back. “I guess I like quiet evenings in, too.” 

“Well, we’ve made an appearance,” Severus said. “We could go.” 

Nodding, Harry started to follow him out but found he couldn’t move. Looking up, Harry saw a cluster of mistletoe directly above them. “Severus.”

Following the direction of Harry’s gaze, Severus sighed. “Charmed mistletoe. Lovely. I’d assumed Lucius to be above such stunts.” 

Harry grinned, clasping his hand. “Well, I certainly don’t mind,” he whispered, stretching up and pressing his lips to Severus’ mouth, feeing the shock of it to his toes. The kiss was languid until Severus slid his tongue into Harry’s mouth, deepening it, and then it turned sensual, hot. 

When they finally pulled apart panting, Harry’s entire body was throbbing. 

“You know,” someone said behind Harry. “You two are going to start attracting attention if you keep insisting on snogging in public like that.” 

“Go away, Lucius,” Severus said, never taking his eyes from Harry’s. 

“Ah, but it’s my house,” Lucius replied, sounding amused. 

Severus huffed. “Then evidently _we_ shall have to leave.” 

Glancing upwards, Harry saw the mistletoe was vibrating and, reaching up, he plucked it out of the air, slipping it into his pocket. “Lead the way,” he said to Severus. 

“Goodnight, Lucius,” Severus murmured, clasping Harry’s elbow. “Please covey our compliments to Narcissa on the lovely party and express our regrets that we had to leave so soon.” 

Lucius inclined his head. “But of course.” And as they moved away he called after them, “And happy Christmas!” 

As he was adroitly manoeuvred out of the crowded Manor, Harry passed Hermione and Ginny, both of whom winked at him, making him blush. By the time they got outside past the charmed gates, Harry’s heart was pounding with anticipation. Would Severus want what he did? Was this just a casual thing? Harry began to pray that things would work out. He’d never wanted anyone quite as much as he wanted Severus in that moment.

“Potter.” Severus turned to face him, Malfoy Manor providing a bright backdrop. “You should be sure you wish to do this. I am not one for...casual encounters.” 

A slow smile spread over Harry’s face. “Neither am I,” he said, linking their fingers. “And I’m very sure. Now take me home.” And a moment later they went...elsewhere.

~

One moment they were landing and the next Severus found himself up against the wall, Potter pressed close. “Now, where were we before Malfoy interrupted?” he whispered. “Oh, yeah--” 

_Yes indeed,_ thought Severus as Potter’s lips settled on his. This was where they had been heading for days. And, if he was honest, probably longer than that. Sliding his hands down Potter’s back, Severus cupped his arse, pulling him flush against his body. 

In response, Potter moaned into Severus’ mouth, arching closer. He began to rock, pulling his mouth off Severus’ to bury his face in his neck. 

“Bed,” Severus growled. “Too...old...to fornicate up...against a wall.” 

Potter laughed softly, nibbling on Severus’ jaw before leaning back to stare into Severus’ face. “I think we should test that theory soon,” he whispered. “But not right now.” 

Somehow they stumbled towards the bedroom, shedding various items of clothing along the way. By the time they got to Severus’ bed, he was down to his pants and Potter was naked. 

They tumbled into bed, limbs tangled, mouth and hands everywhere. Potter ended up on his back, Severus looming over him. Smiling up at him, Potter ran his hands over Severus’ back, pushing his pants down over his hips and off. 

Light was seeping in from the street, a bit too much for Severus’ liking, but all he saw in Potter’s gaze was admiration and no small amount of lust. “Severus,” he moaned. 

“What do you want, Potter?” Severus asked, sliding his hands over Harry’s body, caressing muscle and warm skin. 

Potter clutched Severus’ arms. “For you to call me Harry,” he said. “If we’re to do this, I want you screaming it.” 

Severus smirked, straddling him. “You think you can make me scream?” 

“I hope so.” Lunging up, Potter -- no, _Harry_ \-- kissed him fiercely. “I hope we can make each other scream, actually.” 

“Very well,” Severus murmured, rolling onto his side and pulling Harry on top of him. “Do your worst. Harry.” 

Harry smiled, leaning down and kissing his way down Severus’ neck, chest and belly, even nuzzling between his thighs. He avoided his cock, though, even when Severus raised his hips for contact. Looking straight up at Severus, Harry allowed his lips to move over the tip of Severus’ cock before whispering, “I want you in me.” 

“Yes,” Severus hissed. Reaching down, he dragged Harry up and over him. “Hands and knees?” 

“No, I want to see you,” Harry gasped as Severus reached between them and started fondling his bits. “Want to...oh God...watch you.” 

Severus closed his eyes as Harry’s words sizzled through him. “Then you’ll have to ride me,” he growled. 

Harry nodded and, sitting up, pressed his hands flat against Severus’ chest. “Lube?” 

“ _Accio Lubricant_!” 

As it flew towards them, Harry snatched it out of the air and, fumbling the top of the phial off, spilled some over his fingers. Some landed on their pricks, which were resting together on Severus’ stomach.

As Severus watched, Harry reached behind himself, using fingers to stretch his hole. Closing his eyes, Severus began mentally listing the ingredients in the most disgusting potion he knew. 

“Severus?” 

“If I watch you do that I’ll come,” he snapped, jaw tense. 

Harry’s breath hitched. “Maybe...you can help next time?” 

Severus’ cock pulsed in response to that thought. “Unless you want me to spill myself right now,” he warned darkly, “you’d better hurry up.” 

Harry shifted, and when he grasped Severus’ cock and began applying lubricant over it, Severus moaned, opening his eyes.

Their gazes locked, and as Harry moved forward, guiding Severus’ cock inside himself, Severus supported Harry’s hips. 

“God,” Harry gasped. “You’re...oh...”

Sitting up, Severus slid his hands up Harry’s back. Harry responded by sitting down, sweet moans spilling from his lips as Severus’ cock slowly opened him. “Are you all right?” Severus grated out once he was fully seated. 

Harry’s face was tucked into Severus’ neck and he was trembling. “God...I...yes.” Drawing back, Harry stared into his face. “Yes.” 

Severus lay back, eyes riveted on Harry’s body as he slowly began to move up and down, sinking a bit deeper onto Severus’ prick with each stroke. He was gorgeous and Severus couldn’t help but wonder how he’d ended up there.

“You feel incredible,” Harry whispered, his eyes roaming all over Severus as his pace quickened. 

“As do you,” Severus whispered, thrusting up every time Harry sat down. 

They moved slowly at first, but soon Harry was taking every inch of Severus and, unable to resist, leaned back up, pulling Harry to him and gasping into his neck, “I have to--”  “Yes,” Harry whispered, practically folding himself in half as he pulled Severus on top of him. “Take me.” 

The words freed something in Severus, and with a growl he pressed Harry into the bed and started thrusting hard and fast. Harry met his every move and within moments, he stiffened in Severus’ arms, crying out. Severus felt Harry’s cock spill warm come between them. As Harry’s arse tightened around him, Severus shouted, grinding his hips into Harry’s arse as he came hard.

Harry’s legs slid down Severus’ back, finally coming to rest on the bed as he panted, trying to catch his breath, but he clung to Severus, shifting until his mouth found Severus’. 

They kissed, deep and slow, Severus pouring everything he felt at that moment into it. When they pulled apart, Harry smiled against his lips. “Happy Christmas.” 

It was the happiest Christmas Severus could ever remember. Closing his eyes, he drew on the last of his reserves, cleaning them up and Summoning a blanket to cover them. “And to you.” 

~

“So, where are we?” Harry asked, looking around. 

“My home.” Severus handed him a cup of tea. “I live over my shop.” 

“Oh!” Accepting the cup, Harry walked over to the window, gazing outside. From that height the street looked magical, covered with a light dusting of snow, the early morning sun creating the illusion of millions of crystals decorating everything. “I like your view.” 

Severus eyed Harry’s arse, which he could see tantalising glimpses of from under his shirttails. “As do I,” he said softly. 

Grinning, Harry turned to face Severus. “Here’s to a happy Christmas,” he said, raising his cup. 

“Indeed,” Severus replied, gliding towards him. Taking Harry’s cup from him and setting it on the windowsill, he drew him close, leaning down. Harry responded immediately, twining his arms around Severus’ neck. He tasted of herbs and magic, with an underlying sweetness all his own. Drawing back, Severus stared down at him. “Potter--”

“You called me Harry last night,” Harry whispered. 

Severus nodded. “True.” 

“Then I think you should call me Harry today.” He smiled. “And tomorrow. And for the next fifty years.” 

A tightness in Severus’ chest loosened. “And after that?” he asked. 

Harry shrugged. “I’ll still call you Severus when we’re portraits, so you should still call me Harry.” Harry grinned mischievously. “After all, it makes more sense to have you scream Harry than Potter, and believe me, I plan on making you do that as often as possible.” 

“Is that so?” Severus asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Most definitely.” Harry rested his palm on Severus’ chest. “Now to the really important question.” 

“Which is?” 

Harry tilted his head. “Do we shag again before we go to the Burrow or afterwards?” 

Severus snorted, and covering Potter’s Harry’s hand with his own, he said, “Why choose?” he purred. 

Harry grinned. “Both?” 

“Indeed.” Severus nodded towards his bedroom, he said, “Shall we?” 

They were late to the Burrow, but no one seemed surprised.

“Hey, mate!” Ronald Weasley said, greeting them. “Professor Snape.” And as he leaned in to hug Harry, Severus distinctly heard him say, “Always knew you’d find your Prince.” 

To Severus’ shock they were welcomed with wide smiles and open arms, and after some of Arthur’s punch and Molly’s delicious food, he began contemplating that perhaps Christmas wasn’t the horror he had always assumed.

“Happy Christmas, Severus,” Harry whispered as they sat curled together on the Weasleys’ lumpy sofa listening to Granger, Lovegood, Ginevra and Fleur sing Christmas carols. Badly.

Severus smirked, his arm tightening around Harry’s shoulders. “Indeed it is.” 

~


End file.
